


Unexpected

by PerserveranceNotLOVE



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan (Dragon Age), Dancing, Elvhenan, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 10:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20872634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerserveranceNotLOVE/pseuds/PerserveranceNotLOVE
Summary: Alyssia and Solas realize that each other has been lying.They dance.





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry, I shouldn't write while exhausted. This is shite but whatever have it anyways.

Still four hours away. Grey-blue eyes watch the sundial outside the window, ignoring the beautiful day beyond, the lovely view that was handcrafted by June's best and most talented servants.

_ 'Slaves _ ,' Fen'Harel immediately corrects himself, _ 'No soft term can pretty up such an ugly truth.' _

And that brings his mind to his rebellion. As subtle and small as it is now, he knows that his gentle prodding is slowly turning it into something very big indeed. The few he counts as his inner circle or advisors each know that this could get nasty. If any one of them are brought to light as the ones behind the disappearing slaves and slavers, they will all be punished in the cruelest fashion the other Evanuris can possibly devise. Felassan, Geal, Nehna, Ivise, Eirlana, and...Alyssia. 

The second his mind turns to his newest advisor, he is reminded why he's ignoring Felassan's prattling in the first place. Only four hours until he can slip away to their hidden oasis to see her again. There's just something about her that draws him, as much as he's tried to fight it. 

"-for the messenger at the party tonight."

That catches his attention. He straightens, demanding, "What party?! I thought I told you I had a prior engagement tonight."

Felassan snorts, "This is one of June's little parties. There is no way to get out of it unless you wish to insult him. Were you not listening to a word I've been saying?" 

Fen'Harel leaps up, beginning to pace aggravatedly, unrepentantly admitting, "No, I have not. Repeat from the beginning, paraphrase this time."

* * *

"My dear friend!" 

Fen'Harel inwardly sighs in irritation as June appears just as his own foot crosses the threshold of June's latest creation. It is admittedly a very beautiful palace, delicate glass in all colours of the rainbow that create lovely renditions of the Evanuris and their various deeds. The palace itself appears to be made primarily of precious gemstones, little wips darting around playfully to provide light.

Outwardly, Fen'Harel shoots his longtime 'friend' a cocky grin, "Ah, I see that the festivities have not yet begun. I do believe this is the earliest I've been to one of your parties since the incident with the vase."

June laughs, brushing dark hair away from sparkling green eyes, "I, for one, am very glad you are here. As always, Father has decided to refrain from attending, although Mother is here today. Let's be on good behaviour, she seems rather displeased."

Fen'Harel raises an eyebrow as the two begin down the corridor towards the Great Hall, "Are your sisters here, then?" 

"Not yet, although you know that Andruil will be up in your face as soon as she gets here," June laughs, sending a grimace to Fen'Harel's face. That just makes June laugh harder as the two pass into the Great Hall.

The hall is very large, built to hold upwards of 300 people, and even expand if need be. At the far end of the room is a grand dias, where nine thrones sit. June almost carelessly waves his hand and the one meant for Elgar'nan disappears as the others shift to cover the gap. 

"I see your ego is untouched as ever," Fen'Harel teases as he lowers himself onto the throne decorated with wolves, absently admiring the way the glass seems to sparkle with some inner light that brings the wolves to new life. He adopts the confident, careless pose that so often lets others see the image he wishes to portray.

June just grins smugly, plopping down with much less grace into his own, decorated as it is by some of his greatest achievements. His throne is also marginally larger than the rest.

Fen'Harel resigns himself to listening 'intently', feigning wonder and amazement and laughing in all the right places as June begins to regale him with his most recent creations. In his thoughts, he fumes at the careless loss of lives from June's experiments to get things just right, the beauty of the palace and thrones taking a sharp turn to disgusting as he learns exactly how many died creating them.

Falon'Din and Dirthamen arrive together quickly, taking their places but keeping their conversation between themselves in hushed tones. That's perfectly fine with Fen'Harel, he has no wish to spend dinner listening to Falon'Din and June snipe at each other. 

Ghilan'nain sweeps in with a flourish, sitting primly in her throne and informing Fen'Harel, "I do hope you at least speak to her. I've no wish to go home and listen to her carry on about you for yet another night." 

Fen'Harel allows one irritated breath to leave his lips, June laughing at the sound, "It appears as though my sister's little crush hasn't abated."

Crossly, Fen'Harel asks, "Doesn't she have a lover? Who happens to be right here, might I add?"

Ghilan'nain snorts, "If I could hold her gaze, she wouldn't be Andruil. She still sees me as prey. You're a challenge, and to her, that is alluring."

Fen'Harel tilts his head, "Do you think if I just bedded her, she would stop? No, she wouldn't, would she."

Falon'Din pipes up, "I wish you the best of luck, Wolf, here comes the Huntress."

Andruil approaches, clear blue eyes fixed on Fen'Harel as she approaches. Sylaise follows close behind, an amused expression on her features. 

The Evanuris all chorus greetings to the Huntress and Hearthkeeper.

Fen'Harel fixes a roguish grin on his face, "Andruil, Sylaise, it is always a pleasure to see two of the loveliest ladies in all of Elvhenan."

Sylaise pipes up, "Hello to you too, Fen'Harel. Could you please tell my fool of a sister that you don't plan to look twice at her this evening? She's been absolutely insufferable."

Andruil smirks, "That makes the hunt all the more rewarding, dear sister. When they _ struggle. _" 

Fen'Harel almost cringes, but a hand lands on Andruil's shoulder, drawing attention to the All-Mother who had apparently entered while they were all preoccupied.

"Now, my little ones, please do not trouble the Wolf this evening," Mythal chides, "Mooning for a wolf gets one nowhere."

Andruil huffs but plops down in her throne and refuses to look Fen'Harel's way, causing him to shoot his old friend a grateful look.

* * *

The festivities are in full swing when he feels it, the faint tingling on the back of his neck that says that he's being watched. Even as he throws back his head a bit to give a full bellied laugh at some inanity from June, his eyes search the crowd. None of his people save for Felassan should recognize him, he always wears a hood over his hair and plain clothes rather than his finery when with his inner circle. 

He almost drops the glass of honey wine in his hand when his gaze meets the gaze of someone that he recognizes. A very familiar person indeed, given that it's the very woman that's been plaguing his thoughts. A woman that is staring at him with a befuddled expression as though trying to place a familiar face.

He almost grimaces before catching himself, instead setting his wine aside and standing. Mythal had long since excused herself to the gardens, Falon'Din and Dirthamen had ducked out quite early on after staying just long enough to be polite, Andruil is somewhere among the throng of people on the dance floor, and Ghilan'nain is deep into the embrace of alcohol. That leaves only Sylaise and June to look up in interest at his movements.

In answer, he smirks cockily, "I shall see what sorts of people have turned up today. Perhaps someone... interesting."

June laughs, 'catching on', "Hunt well, Wolf!"

Sylaise just sighs at the antics of her brother and his best friend, turning back to soothing the emotional mess that is drunk Ghilan'nain.

Fen'Harel slips into the crowd, making his way to the beauty that is Alyssia. His eyes rove over the delicate gemstones braided into her hair like multicolored dewdrops, the airy dress that looks soft to the touch, and the various other bits of jewelry that decorate her arms, neck, and legs. Her head jerks up to allow her to glare at him when he gets close enough to gently grip her forearm, glare rapidly turning to sheer confusion as she realizes who exactly is standing in front of her.

He almost loses his cool right there, her dark eyes staring into his and looking for all intents and purposes like a true lover to an Evanuris. Likely, her parents garbed her this way to catch June's fickle attentions, but Fen'Harel doesn't care as he realizes that Alyssia looks like she would if she were truly his.

"I apologize, my lord," Alyssia demures after a moment of silence between the two, and oh does that hurt to hear her call him that, "May I help you?"

Fen'Harel lowers his voice, "Alyssia… What are you doing here?"

Her confusion comes back full force before realization dawns. He struggles to stay impassive as her free arm slips up to allow her to draw one hand to his cheek, fingers tracing up to the scar above his eyebrow that she's seen so many times on him as Solas. 

Her eyes connect back with his, a fierce light within them now as she whispers harshly, "What am I doing here? What in the Void are you doing here, _ Solas?! _" 

He winces, unable to stop the moment of weakness, "I have no words to properly express how sorry I am to have deceived-" 

Alyssia cuts him off with a finger to his lips, eyes closing as she breathes in and out slowly. She finally opens her eyes to a very chastised-looking 'god', and she looks almost ready to burst into laughter at the realization that she just cut off and hushed one of the Evanuris. 

Finally, she appears to swallow her humour, muttering to him, "We will discuss this. Later. For now, I need to get the feel of the hands of idiotic 'suitors' off of me." 

His eyes narrow and a growl very nearly rumbles from his chest. The thought of men trying anything with his vhenan…

That word snaps him out of it. They have only just begun exploring a romantic connection, such a word surely cannot apply to her. And yet, it feels so right. 

His hand goes from her arm to her waist, unable to resist trailing magic with his fingertips along the way. She responds happily, pressing herself further to him as his other hand gently takes her own, his magic coming out almost instinctively to cradle her in its embrace. And though he is being as subtle as possible with the usage, the feel of his magic in the air is unmistakable.

He lowers his head to hers, pressing his forehead to hers as he begins to lead her in one of the many popular dances of Arlathan. She presses a feather-light kiss to his nose even he presses his magic closer. 

"_ Vhenan…" _ Fen'Harel whispers. 

Her grip on him tightens immediately, and for one terrible moment he thinks she may pull away. 

Instead, Alyssia murmurs, "Vhenan…" and presses a gentle kiss on his lips. 

By now, the two have well and truly forgotten where they are as they dance. Andruil, from where she stalks across the dance floor, nearly flies into a rage at the sight, but Sylaise grabs her and drags her out of the Hall. June has a death grip on his glass, a pleasant expression on his face as he watches his biggest rival and best friend dance with the daughter of one of his own. 

From where Mythal stands just out of sight, this is likely the most amusing soiree she's ever attended. She wonders how much more so it will get when Fen'Harel is informed of how many suitors actually attempted to propose tonight. The thought sends a throaty chuckle from her lips.

From her throne, Ghilan'nain wails into the shoulder of a terrified looking slave before puking all over the poor lad.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Night To Remember.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874962) by [Jubilation_Lee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubilation_Lee/pseuds/Jubilation_Lee)


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